Do I say it? Should I risk it? The words are traditional, and tis the season, after all. It would be rude if I didn’t do it, but it feels incredibly reckless. Recklessly optimistic, and I might be a little too gun shy for something like that. Oo, I should say it, but I can’t, but I should but I… Oh, hang it all!
Happy new year to you and every single person you hold near and dear.
There, I ripped off the preverbal bandaid and said it out loud. Happy new…*gag*…year. Huh, I only have it in me to say it once before my eye starts twitching and my stomach starts gurgling. That’s a bit strange, isn’t it? Or, perhaps, my cynicism is seeping out again.
I thought I plugged up that leak, but it’s returned with a vengeance. Now that’s a decent idea for a movie. Cynicism With A Vengeance, staring the people from that other movie. You’ve never seen anything like it before, and there’s a good reason for that. It’s a bloody awful film.
Sorry, I’m still in the festive haze, and I just had some egg nog. Rookie mistake, eh. I would apologize again, but I’m not actually repentant. It was creamy and yummy and noggy.
I ran into one of my neighbours this morning, and she started to wish me a happy new year, but she couldn’t bring herself to finish it. It started out so strong and jubilant until it fell away. Correction! She held it in her hand with a firm grip and yeeted it over her shoulder. Happy… Oh, never mind. I’m going to jinx us if I say it, and I can’t have that on my conscience. I will not be held responsible for the next catastrophe.
Wow, that’s a mood wrapped up in pessimism and topped with a dark, twisty bow. Have I finally found my people? Not that I’m superstitious, and I don’t think I believe in jinxes. I take the view that the risk isn’t worth it. Real or not, why poke the sleeping polar bear? Put a fizzy drink by its paws and tiptoe away quietly.
Like most people, this past year was extremely challenging and emotionally exhausting. I’m not sorry to see it go. Good riddance and goodbye. I would spit on your grave if you had one, and it wasn’t a disgusting thing to do. Ew, spitting in public, yuck. Don’t you know there’s a pandoodle going on? Keep your fluids to yourself.
Yesterday, I watched a woman pull down her mask, bend over, and let snot drip out of her nose onto the sidewalk. It took every ounce of strength to not get out of my car and vomit on her head. I just…why would you do that? I shiver and gag at the memory.
Which I think is fitting given the walk down memory lane. That’s what happens when one year ends, and another begins. I look back at what was and try to find some good in it. Shouldn’t it serve as a reminder that there will be something to look forward to. Something wonderful, magical, and inspiring?
But my year in review is triggering the gag reflex, and I’m not overly optimistic about the next twelve months. When the clock struck twelve, the planet didn’t reset. Everything we were struggling with on December 31, 2021, didn’t disappear. This isn’t a do-over. Or, better yet, an undo of all the bad things that have come our way.
If wishing made it so! Wouldn’t that be lovely? There are quite a few things I’d like to erase and a few I’d like to try again. Now that I know where I went wrong, I stand a moderately better chance of getting it right. If only New Year’s Eve was a giant eraser, and the midnight strike wiped everything away.
New year? New everything! Groundhogs day goes international and annual. Hmm, is that a good idea or my worst one yet? Or, I’m trying to end the year with a modicum of hope that this new one will be amazing. Hell, I’d settle for tolerable at this point.
Hope for the best, prepare for the worst, and settle for something that’s not too bad? Oh no, the leak is getting worse.
My mood is a stark contrast to this time last year. I started 2021 with so much hope that you could call it blissful naïveté. Fresh off of puppy cuddles and Christmas merriment, I was genuinely excited about whatever was going to come my way. It was a new year full of possibilities and adventures. I was so ready for things to change after everything that was 2020.
In my new year’s post last year, I stated with confidence that my word for the year was: Hope. I meant it when I wrote it, and I believed it wholeheartedly. I really thought it would be my year. I’d find my place and discover the reason I’m still here.
Medically speaking, I shouldn’t be alive right now, and I’ve baffled many doctors over the years. If I had a dollar for every medical professional that exclaimed, “How the hell are you still alive?” Well, I could buy a small bag of chips, but it’s weird that it happened more than once.
Obviously, I defied all the expectations, and I have to believe there’s a reason for that. I don’t know what that reason is, but I foolishly thought that this past year would reveal it. This was supposed to be it. I felt it so fiercely that it became an electric ball of energy in my chest.
Hope. Faith. Purpose. Those were the words that described my feelings on December 31, 2020. Have you ever felt something so strongly that you were confident you could close your eyes and manifest a new reality in the palm of your hand? That was me a year ago. I could’ve sworn…But I was wrong.
It turned out to be one of the most challenging years of my life, and not in a good way. I won’t go into all of it again. I’ve written about it before, and who watches the recaps anyway? Not me, I always hit skip so I can get to the good stuff. I’ll spare you the year in review and sum it up with five little words.
What the f**k just happened?
I’m in a permanent state of exhaustion, and that other four-letter word (it starts with an H) has been depleted. I know that sounds so dire, and woe is me. I’m putting a damper on the celebrations. The fireworks went off, and instead of saying oo or aw, I’m muttering, meh. Go on, clear your throats and sing with me, “Party pooper!”
Shouldn’t the first post of this new year be uplifting or moderately perky? Shouldn’t I sit here and tell you that this is the start of something new and wonderful. I should at least offer some words of inspiration. That’s what all the other bloggers, vloggers, and social media people are doing.
I have never been one to follow the crowd. Mostly because my legs are too short to keep up. Also, herd mentality is notoriously sketchy, and I can’t help myself. I have to be contrary. Besides, I’m nothing if not honest on the internet. In real life? Uh…no, that outfit doesn’t make you look like the living embodiment of a cartoon character.
You look uniquely, uh, you and I love you for it.
I think it’s fair to say that my flinch reflex is on a high alert, and my hopefulness is tepid at best. It’s not gone, not entirely. I don’t think life has lost all meaning, and there’s no chance this new year will be better than the last two. There’s always a chance that something brilliant will happen. As long as we’re breathing, things can get better.
There’s always a chance, no matter how unlikely it may seem. Whew, that took my breath away. I wrote it, I believe it, but I’m not sure my heart registers it. Do you know what I mean? The brain/heart connection is experiencing technical difficulties. Logic and reason aren’t meshing with emotions like hope or faith. I want to believe with every fibre of my being, but after the last two years?
Is anyone else feeling the disconnect? Head and heart. Logic and emotion. Which one do I trust to not let me down?
There’s a lot of pressure placed on the beginning of a new year. All of those resolutions, expectations, wishes and prayers that ride wild a free. It’s the one night where we let it all out in hopes of manifestation. The clock strikes twelve, and we send it out into the universe. From our lips to…
I think, for me, it’s become a bit too much. I don’t have it in me this year so, I’ve dialled it back. There won’t be a word of the year or a list of resolutions. I haven’t sent anything out into the great unknown. Wait, I think there is one thing, but I’m not sure it counts.
Scroll back a few paragraphs, and you’ll see it there. It took my breath away and set my head and heart into a tizzy. When midnight rolled around, I looked up and whispered, “I can’t see how it’s possible, but there’s a chance, right?”
A chance that this year will bring something good into my life. A chance that I’ll find a place to belong. If I dare to be bold? Maybe I’ll finally find the reason I’m still here.
It’s not as grand as hope or faith, but after a hard-knock year, it’s better than nothing. I know I’m not the only one feeling emotionally, mentally, and physically depleted. It’s been a hard slog for most of us so, here’s to the small things. The glimmer of brighter days. The mere possibilities and the half-hearted hope.
I sincerely wish you the best in this new year. Cheers!